


Maybe the Devil exists to bring us closer to God

by kasugayamaisforlovers



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, clairedevil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22879738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kasugayamaisforlovers/pseuds/kasugayamaisforlovers
Summary: Claire thinks about Matt and life.
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Claire Temple, Matt Murdock/Claire Temple
Kudos: 6





	Maybe the Devil exists to bring us closer to God

_ I really have not missed you at all.  _ And maybe she didn’t, but Lord knows she’s thought about him. Crawling into bed after a 16 hour shift, eyelids heavy enough to crush a car, she lays on her back thinking about the day. She’s patched everything from boo-boos, to dislocated shoulders, to the anemic bodies of people Matt brought in. She’s done a lot. She does a lot everyday, and it’s good work. She’s never questioned that it’s good work. Yet every time she runs into him, there’s a question. 

_ Could she be doing more? _

There’s a nagging in her chest that says she could. It’s the same nagging that compelled her to pull a masked vigilante from a dumpster. She sighs and rubs her eyes. Nothing is ever simple. She can never just run into a hot guy with a nice ass. No, it’s gotta be that he’s reckless, and heroic, and arrogant, and selfless, and rash, and violent, and really good at kissing. She pulls a pillow over her head as though it’s going to quiet her loud thoughts. 

“Saint Matthew,” she thinks, “I’d like to squeeze a lemon in his next cut.” She remembers the wretched way he’d thanked her for keeping the blood-drained people, as though she would refuse--as if she could. Every conversation between them seems to end in an apology. She sighs loudly and wraps herself in the duvet.  _ Matt’s sheets are silk.  _ She wishes her brain would shut up just this once. Curled up safe in her blanket, feet sore, she looks out the window hearing sirens cut through the steady thrum of traffic. She wonders what it would feel like to do more. 


End file.
